Unable to Think
by SadieQHiddleston
Summary: Sherlock can't think, and it's all because of a girl. But what's he going to do about it? Sherlock/OC
1. Snow in London

**This is based of BBC's Sherlock. Who I am totally not in love with. At all. Ish. The bit in italics is a flashback. I'm sorry it's so bad :P**

Sherlock Holmes was pacing around his office, three nicotine patches on his left arm. People were being murdered, but he couldn't think. His head was full of thoughts, but none about the case.

_'Strange.' _John thought. _'Sherlock's not thinking about the case. I wonder what's going on in that brilliant mind of his.__'_

Sherlock, however, was more worried than curious. Usually a case was all he could think about, but this time it was different. He sat down in a chair and buried his head in his hands. John watched him in amusement, and thought back to when Sherlock had started acting strange.

_John and Sherlock walked towards the crime scene, Sherlock's eyes glinting as they usually did when there was a case to be solved. John saw Molly over by the victim's car, talking to a girl with brown hair that John hadn't seen before. Sherlock was examining the body, so John went to see the new girl._

_"Hi." He said, smiling at her. "My name's John."_

_"Sadie." She grinned. "Molly's told me all about you." She glanced at Molly, who smiled back._

_"Yeah. John and Sherlock are a great team. They can solve crimes almost instantly." Molly emphasized, a slight blush on her cheeks. Sadie noticed the way that Molly had blushed when she said 'Sherlock'. _

_"Who's Sherlock?" She asked, curious to know why Molly was so obsessed with him. John pointed to a tall, dark haired man standing by the bodies. Sadie raised an eyebrow and looked at Molly, who was practically dancing. She looked as though she was about to burst. Sadie grabbed Molly's arm and led her away, apologising to John, who looked amused, especially when he saw Molly jumping up and down. He walked towards Sherlock, who was staring blankly at the crime scene._

_"What's up?" John asked Sherlock, concerned as to why he wasn't saying anything. Sherlock just looked at him. John pulled Sherlock to one side. "I think you're ill." _

_"I'm not ill. I'm just trying to think. I can't concentrate." Sherlock replied, quickly, before heading away from the scene._

John snapped back to reality. Something must have happened at the crime scene for Sherlock to be acting so weirdly. He thought about it a bit more. Everything was normal, nothing new, so that couldn't be it. Sherlock looked up at John.

"You're thinking about he something." He observed. John stared at him.

"Tell me, Sherlock. How long did it take you to figure that out?"

"Longer than it should have. You're trying to figure out what's bothering me." Sherlock sighed. "Can you send a text for me?"

John pulled out his phone. "Who to?" He asked.

"I don't know. Just send a text."

John rolled his eyes and put his phone away. "Tell me what's bothering you."

"Isn't it obvious?" Sherlock asked.

"I'm not you, I can't tell these sort of things." John snapped.

"That's one good thing."

"What is it, Sherlock?" John pressed.

Sherlock sighed. "Did you see the woman who was with Molly?" Sherlock asked, and John nodded. "It's her. She was very..."

John nearly laughed. "Hang on a sec. So you're saying, that you saw a pretty girl, and now you can't think? That's ridiculous."

Sherlock threw his phone at John. "Shut up. I can't help it. I'll get over it."

"I don't think that's going to happen. Go and talk to her."

"I can't." Sherlock whined. "Everytime I try to she's with Molly, and you know that Molly won't ever forgive me if I speak to another female."

"Go and talk to her. It's really none of Molly's business. Trust me, it'll help you think again." John sighed, and handed Sherlock his coat, and his phone, and pushed him out of the room.

**3 Hours Later**

"What do you mean, you spoke to him?" Molly shrieked at Sadie, who hid her face in her hands.

"I mean, that I spoke to him! Am I not allowed to do that?" Sadie yelled back.

"You know I like him, and you're trying to steal him!" Molly screamed.

"I don't even like him in that way, and he doesn't like you. Why can't you get that into your head, Molly? He. Doesn't. Like. You." Sadie replied, trying to stay calm. Molly's jaw dropped.

"You wouldn't know." She said, dangerously.

"I would. I can tell by the way he ignores your attempts at flirting, and shows no affection to you in a loving way." Sadie stated, before leaving the angry Molly on her own.

**Sometime In The Future**

Sadie laughed as Sherlock grabbed her hand and pulled her through the snow. London was covered in a 6 inch layer of snow, and Sadie was making the most of it. She bent down and picked up a clump of snow, and threw it at Sherlock's head. He smiled and threw one back, shaking the snow from his curly hair. After an hour of snowball fighting, Sherlock pushed Sadie into the snow and lied down next to her. She smiled.

"I never thought that Sherlock Holmes would have a snowball fight. I always thought that you were..." She trailed off, unable to find the right word.

"Yeah." Sherlock said. "I never thought I would either. You changed me."

"In a good or bad way?" She asked.

"Good. Nothing could have been better." He said, sprinkling snow on her nose.

"So I take it that you aren't gay either?"


	2. Shouldn't Have Said That

Sadie was bored. Sherlock was out on a case, and the police didn't want her around in case 'anybody got distracted'. She knew what this meant, and she wasn't amused. They didn't believe that Sherlock has asked her out, they thought that it was another crazy experiment that they were doing, so the police had decided to try and keep them apart.

"Bored, bored, bored, bored, bored." She sighed, as her phone began to beep. She checked it and saw a text from John.

_'Come at once.' _It said, _'Inspector Lestrade wants you for something.'_

Sadie grabbed her coat and was out of her front door in a flash.

It turned out that Lestrade wanted her because Sherlock and Anderson were arguing over something stupid, and neither of them would stop. As soon as she got there she saw the complete mess of the crime scene. It looked like Sherlock and Anderson had started World War Three. It turned out that Sherlock couldn't think if Anderson was facing him, but this time Anderson _refused_ to move, and that was how it started.

"See what I mean?" Lestrade whispered. "This is getting ridiculous." He muttered, shaking his head. The arguing had gotten so bad that the police officers had left the room, and were waiting for them to finish. Sadie looked warily at the two fighters, who were now throwing things at each other. At first it was small objects, mobiles, bags, torches. But then Sadie saw Sherlock reach for a microscope and she knew that he would _probably _throw it if he was allowed. Which he wasn't. She ran into the room and grabbed the microscope before he could get to it, dodging a flask that had been thrown by Anderson.

"What the hell is going on here?" She yelled at the two men, who now had shameful looks on their faces. "This is a _crime scene._ I don't think you've noticed that!" Sadie looked stunned. Anderson just threw down the glass in his hand before storming out. Sadie stared at Sherlock, who had a blank expression, and she could see the rage hidden behind his eyes. She gently pulled his arm and he turned to face her.

"You ok?" She asked, trying not to laugh.

"It's not funny." He replied, looking confused as she raised an eyebrow.

"It looked pretty funny to us. Have you seen the mess you've made?" She gestured around the room. Sherlock's eyes widened as he took in the damage that he and Anderson had done.

"We did this?" He asked, surprised.

"Figure it out. You've got a mug in your hand." She pointed out. Sherlock looked down at his hand, and he threw the mug onto a nearby table.

"I need to think. Properly." He muttered, before striding from the room. Sadie turned around to see Lestrade giving her a look of disbelief. John, however, looked very pleased with himself, and Sadie soon discovered why, because Lestrade handed John a ten pound note.

"Told you she could stop him." John said, happily. Lestrade's face darkened.

"All right, you don't have to rub it in." He replied. "But thanks anyway Sadie. We'll get to work on cleaning this up. He's an idiot sometimes, although he's a great man."

"And what about Anderson? He isn't an idiot?" Sadie argued, a note of defense in her voice. Lestrade sighed.

"Yes, ok. I'll admit that he can be an idiot as well. But Sherlock is worse." He reasoned, knowing that Sherlock acted like a 10-year old sometimes, whereas Anderson was _slightly_ more mature. Sadie took a deep breath and nodded.

"I know. I'm gonna go find him- _If that's ok with you._" She added, frostily. Lestrade glared at her.

"It was Sergeant Donovan who suggested that it was an experiment. We all believed it because, well, we couldn't believe the truth." He said, honestly. Sadie just made a 'hmph' noise, and left the room in the direction that Sherlock had gone. She found him outside, leaning against a wall and typing on his phone.

"I thought you usually got other people to do that for you." She said, nodding at his phone. Sherlock looked up at her and smiled.

"I can do it if it's neccessary. Or important. This is the latter." He replied, holding her gaze for a moment. "Anything you would like me to say to Miss Adler for you?" He asked. Sadie just stared at him.

"Sherlock, Irene's **dead**. You know that right, or did Mycroft tell you otherwise?" She said back to him, feeling quite bad.

"Mycroft told me somthing different, but I know she was beheaded. Well, she would have been if I hadn't been there to stop it." He countered, feeling triumphant at the mixed emotions on Sadie's face. He could see confusion, surprise, happiness, slight worry, but something else. Something he couldn't get was there, and he hated it. "Are you ok?" He asked her, frowning.

"Fine." She muttered, before walking back into the police station, her eyes dark. Sherlock watched her leave, and then he John heading over towards him.

"What the hell did you say to her, Sherlock?" He asked, disbelievingly.

"Why? What's wrong with her?" He asked, puzzled.

"Really? You actually don't get it?" John shook his head. "We need to talk."

And then Sherlock realised what the hidden emotion on Sadie's face was.

Anger.


	3. Warehouses, Bring It On

"You WHAT?!" John shouted at his roommate. "You actually stopped them beheading someone?" Sherlock nodded. "That's not the part that surprises me, you know." He added.

"Oh? Then what is?" Sherlock asked.

"That you actually told Sadie! You can't tell your girlfriend that! No wonder she's mad at you!"

"She's not my girlfriend, John, I thought you would know that. And why would she be mad?"

"No, she is your girlfriend, and she's mad because she thinks that you prefer Irene, seeing as though you risked your life to rescue her."

"She thinks I like Irene? That's insane."

"Not to her!"

"What am I supposed to do?" Sherlock whined.

"Go and find her, tell her the truth. How do you not know these things?"

Sherlock shrugged, and pulled out his phone.

'Where are you? -SH'

'Out. -SS'

'Are you going to tell me where? -SH'

'No. -SS'

"I don't know where she is." Sherlock said, truthfully, showing John the texts.

"Give her some time. Meanwhile, why don't you start tracking the messages? Then you can find out where she is."

**Streets of London**

Sadie huddled into the neck of her leather jacket, the wind was cold and it blew into her face, but that wasn't the reason there were tears occasionally were falling to the ground. He liked _her_. How? Her tears became less gentle and more angry. She ran into a deserted alleyway and sank onto the floor, hugging her knees to her chin. Her phone began to ring, but it wasn't Sherlock. Or John. Or anyone she knew. It was an unknown number, so she declined the call. Just as she was about to put her phone back in her pocket, it rang again. This time she picked up.

"Who is this?" She asked the mystery caller.

"We have a car coming for you, direct to your location."

"Why? What do you want?"

"We know what _you _want, Miss Simpson. You want Sherlock's attention. We can get you that- and more."

"How? Who are you?" She pressed.

"Get in the car." The voice said, before hanging up.

A sleek black car pulled up at the end of the alleyway. Sadie stared at it for a moment before getting up off the ground and walking carefully towards it. The windows were blacked out, meaning she couldn't see who was inside it. She took a deep breath and opened the car door. There was a divider between the front and back, so that the driver was hidden from view. She got inside, closed the door behind her and the car sped off. She watched the buildings pass by. They went past 221B Baker Street and she couldn't help wondering what Sherlock and John were doing. Luckily, she didn't know they were attempting to track her text so that they could get a lock on her phone and find out where she was, otherwise she would have been angry. Well, angrier than she was, anyway. Eventually the car pulled up outside an old, run-down warehouse, clearly long abandoned.

"How cliché." She muttered, under her breath.

"Over here!" A taunting voice echoed from the shadows. Sadie frowned and walked towards the source of the noise. She was momentarily enveloped in darkness before reaching a well-lit room, with a few chairs and two people. The room was only bright because there was no roof. One of the people was a male, dressed in a smart, Vivienne Westwood suit, and he had black hair and a triumphant smirk. The other was a female with light brown, wavy hair. She was wearing dark jeans with a black T-shirt, and a pair of designer boots. They introduced themselves as Jim Moriarty and Becca. Just Becca.

"How do you know my name?" Sadie asked, fiercely. Moriarty laughed.

"We know eveything about you, Sadie. We know **everything.**"

"How?" She growled. Moriarty just giggled again and wrapped his arm around Becca.

"She's so naïve, isn't she?" Becca smirked. "We've been tracking you. You want Sherlock? Well, so do we. And now that we have you, we have him."

Sadie's face paled. "You're... you're using me."

**221B Baker Street**

"We've got a lock, Sherlock."

"Really? Location?"

"Somewhere off map. No idea where she is. But my guess, is somewhere _not good._" John bit his lip.

"I'm going." Sherlock grabbed his coat and scarf. "Send me directions. I'll call you when I get there."

"Sherlock." John said. "Be careful. We don't know why she's there. It could be some sort of trap."

"I'll be fine." Sherlock smiled, before running out of the door. John pressed his forehead against the desk.

**The Warehouse**

Sadie was standing on the opposite side of the room to Moriarty and Becca. The way that they were pacing around the room reminded her of a bullfight. Her being the bull, ready to snap at any moment, at the slightest movement. The door creaked open, but nobody noticed it until they heard a smooth voice.

"Moriarty. How nice to see you again."

"Sherlock! We knew you'd be arriving. We've got you some company. But you've already noticed that." Moriarty spread his arms wide. "Beautiful place this, isn't it? Easy to get things stored away, if you know what I mean."

"You shouldn't be here. You really shouldn't." Sadie whispered to Sherlock. "You have to go. Like, **now**." Her voice became urgent.

"You shouldn't be here either." He retorted. "That means we should both go. _Like, **now**._"

"Moriarty?" Sadie asked, smirking slightly. "You said that this was a beautiful place. Shows how tacky you really are, doesn't it?"

Becca stepped forwards, her eyes narrow. "Tacky? Have you seen the guys that you hang around with? A war freak and a frigid psycho. Not really my type, if you ask me."

Sadie leapt at Becca, who dodged out of the way, crouching in a karate stance.

"Bring it." She growled.

"You're on." Sadie grinned, evilly.


	4. Fighting, Death, and Happiness

Sherlock and Moriarty could do nothing. To be honest they didn't actually know what to do. The two girls had gone mental. Becca was kicking out, her karate training finally being used in real life. Becca looked professional, but Sadie looked wild. She wasn't really trained in this area of fighting, well, any area really, so she was just pulling Becca's hair and biting her arm. Sherlock and Moriarty looked at each other with wide eyes. Sherlock tilted his head to one side and Moriarty shrugged, both of them slowly edging away from the wildcats. The fight was a blur, until they both stopped. Sadie was holding a gun, and Becca reached into her pocket for one. As she drew it, Moriarty and Sherlock both stepped forwards. Moriarty gently prised the gun from Becca's fingers, and Sherlock carefully lowered Sadie's arm and placed the gun that was in her hand on a nearby table. The girls glared at each other, and Sherlock could see the hate and rivalry in Sadie's eyes. Becca dropped her glare, and turned to Moriarty, ignoring the look of contempt from Sadie and the look of amusement from Sherlock.

"You know, I thought you would have figured it out by now, Sherlock." Moriarty's said, tauntingly.

"I have done. There's a door behind you, leading straight outside where you can get away. Earlier, you said that it was easy to get things stored away. You and Becca keep edging towards the door and you keep looking at your watch. I've figured it out." Sherlock smirked.

"What is it?" Sadie whispered.

"This whole place is packed with bombs that are going to go off in about a minute. Well. 1 minute and 6 seconds, and counting."

"Are you actually being serious?" Sadie asked. Sherlock nodded. "Well, in that case-" Sadie raised her gun and shot Becca in the ankle, who screamed and fell to the ground.

"You... you..!" Moriarty stammered, dropping to Becca's side.

"50 seconds." Sherlock stated.

"Sherlock... what do we do?" Sadie asked, nervously. Sherlock winked, and suddenly there was a loud noise overhead, and a rope ladder dropped down in front of them. Sadie looked up to see a helicopter, with John and Mycroft sat in it. "Please tell me you didn't get them to bring a helicopter as a rescue mission." Sherlock grinned and grabbed the ladder.

"Are you coming, or would you rather blow up?" He held out his hand. Sadie looked at him sceptically. "Trust me." He said, gently. Sadie took his hand and pulled herself onto the other side of the ladder, which lifted the two of them away from the building. Meanwhile, Moriarty was trying to help Becca up, but she couldn't move.

"Becca, come on! We have to get out of here. This place is going to blow soon, I can't leave you here."

"You have to." She said, sorrowfully. "You can't die now, you have to continue making Sherlock's life a living hell, remember? That was the plan."

"The plan had both of us in it though, and I can't do it alone." Moriarty had tears in his eyes.

"You'll have to, now go, GO!" Becca cried pushing Moriarty away, who dived out of the door as the warehouse went up in flames, bits of glass and rubble shattering in the blow. Moriarty stared at the wreckage, and without waiting for the fire to die down, he ran back inside.

"Becca?" He yelled, hoping for an answer.

There was none.

He stumbled around in the smoke for a minute, before seeing her, lying on the ground, a shard of glass stuck in her chest. He fell to his knees by her side. She was breathing - slightly. Becca looked at him, and softly put her hand against the side of his face. She smiled painfully, and closed her eyes.

"No. Becca, no. Please." Moriarty begged, but it was no use.

Becca, the only person he had ever truly loved, was dead.

Moriarty looked at her for a moment. "She did this. I swear on my life I will kill her for this. I hate her. I HATE HER!" Moriarty screamed, pulling out a gun and shooting it at the now speeding up helicopter.

**St Bartholomew's Hospital**

Sadie woke up in a hospital bed, to see Molly, Sherlock and John standing over her. She noticed that Sherlock was holding her hand, well, he was. He dropped it and left the room, telling everyone that he was going to tell Lestrade that she was awake.

"Awake?" Sadie asked. "What happened?"

"Moriarty shot you, and you passed out. You've been out for about a week now." John said. "Sherlock carried you up the ladder."

"Sherlock carried me?" Sadie raised an eyebrow, disbelievingly. John nodded.

"He's stronger than he looks. He punched me once. I'm going to go and see if he's alright, he looked a bit pale earlier." John left, leaving Sadie with Molly.

"I'm sorry." Molly blurted out. "I didn't mean any of those things I said ages ago."

"I know, Molly. I'm sorry as well." Sadie sighed.

Molly touched the bandage around Sadie's arm. "He never left you, you know. Sherlock's stayed by your side all the time."

"Really?" Sadie asked, smiling slightly.

"Yeah. He really likes you, Sadie. And I... I think you're perfect together."

"Thanks, Molly."

Sherlock and John came back in the room.

"Can I speak to you for a second, Molly?" John asked, hinting that they should leave Sherlock alone with Sadie.

"Sure." Molly and John both left.

"How are you?" Sherlock asked.

"Fine." Sadie smiled, sitting up, and leaning her head backwards. Sherlock sat down on the edge of her bed.

"Good." Sherlock replied, for once, not knowing what else to say. He knew what he wanted to say, but he couldn't. The words wouldn't leave his mouth. Instead, he cupped his hand around the side of her face. Sadie looked at him, and smiled. Then Sherlock did something that would convey what he wanted to say.

He kissed her.

"I love you." He whispered.

"I love you too."


	5. The Final Solution

**This is probably going to be a very short chapter, because I have writer's block, and I have no idea what to write. This is probably going to be the last chapter, except for an epilogue, of course.**

Why? Why had she done this to him? He had taken her from him, the only thing he had. She was gone, nothing could change that. The past couldn't be changed, but the future could. Usually, he would have marched straight to Baker Street and shot everyone, everyone that Sherlock cared about, but he just didn't have the strength. Or the will. There would only be one way to ever be with Becca again. One simple thing. The chess move. He pulled out his phone and sent a message to Sherlock.

'The final problem is solved. You two win. At the warehouse, everything will end. -JM'

Moriarty took a deep breath and left, to wait at the warehouse, where he knew Sherlock, and probably Sadie, would arrive to see his solution. He would be there, waiting. Waiting to show them what he could do.

**The Warehouse**

Sherlock and Sadie ran through the burnt rubble and trashed corridors, in search of the consulting criminal. They found him in an empty room, one which had evidently not been affected by the explosion. They dashed in to see him grin widely.

"There's a solution to every problem, Sherlock. We both know that. And now," Moriarty reached into his pocket, "You get to see the final solution. The solution to all of your problems." He pulled out a gun, and Sadie grabbed Sherlock's wrist. She looked at him, confused, but scared. Moriarty cocked the gun and held it level with Sherlock's forehead, who grabbed Sadie's hand. Sadie gasped and shut her eyes, as a loud gunshot echoed around the room. She felt Sherlock's grip on her hand tighten. Her eyes flickered open and she immediately looked at Sherlock and saw him staring at the ground, shocked. She looked down, and saw Moriarty lying in a pool of blood, the gun still in his hand.

"That... that was his solution?" Sadie asked, her mouth dry.

"I guess so." Sherlock replied simply. "Should we tell Lestrade?"

"Yes. I think he has the right to know, especially since Moriarty is the whole reason behind pretty much every case you've solved recently."

"We've."

"Sorry, what?" Sadie blinked a few times.

"We've solved. Not just me. You, me, John, Lestrade."

"Molly, Sally, Anderson." Sadie added.

Sherlock paused for a second. "That was unnecessary."

She smirked. "But true, even if you don't want to admit it." She averted her gaze to Moriarty's body. "He _is_ dead, isn't he?" She knelt down and picked up his wrist.

No pulse. And his hand was cold.

"Dead." She said, finally, trying not to smile, and instead look solemn. This didn't work, however, and she ended up giggling hysterically.

"Sadie! You can't laugh at a dead man's body!" Sherlock bit his lip. "Although I wouldn't exactly call him a man, would you?"

Sadie shook her head, and Sherlock pulled her up from the ground. "We're leaving." He said, sternly, but hiding his laughter.

**Scotland Yard**

They had arrived at Scotland Yard and relayed the news to Lestrade, who made an announcement about it to everyone. Most of them were happy with the news, but John and Sadie knew otherwise. With Moriarty gone, what was Sherlock supposed to do now? At least Moriarty kept him entertained. But now he had nothing, or so he thought. Sadie stepped over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, and without him noticing, his arms had made their way around her waist. Sherlock rested his head on Sadie's shoulder and smiled contentedly. John smiled, knowing that for once, Sherlock was happy without a crime needing to be solved.

He had everything he wanted.


	6. Epilogue

**This will be the last chapter of this fanfic! I want to thank everyone who reviewed, and all my friends for forcing me to write more, especially when I couldn't be bothered. There will probably be a sequel sometime in the future, so look out for it!**

The young girl who was Sadie's niece, Marie, hopped down the sandy beach, between the rows of chairs. Her blonde bob kept falling in front of her startlingly blue eyes. A stolen flower was tucked behind one ear, and the rest of her flowers were being dropped behind her, creating a little flower trail. She was wearing a pale blue dress that made her look very cute. Isabella, one of Sadie's best friends, was standing under a gazebo, wearing a silky purple dress that showed off her figure, and her light brown hair was tied up in a messy bun. Sadie was at one end of the flowers that Marie had laid out.

"Mycroft." She whispered to the man beside her. "I'm scared."

"Don't be." He said, comfortingly. "This is your big day. Just relax, you have nothing to be scared of." Sadie linked her arm through his. "Ready?" He asked, and Sadie nodded, biting her lip.

1 year ago Sherlock had proposed to her. Now, it was time for her dreams to actually come true. She stood at one end of the aisle, her ruffled white dress brushing against her ankles. Her usually wavy brown hair had been styled into ringlets, which ran down her back. They had planned a wedding on the beach, somewhere sunny, just to be untraditional. They had thought for ages about who would walk Sadie down the aisle, but they had eventually decided on Mycroft, and Sadie hoped that it would form some sort of peace treaty between him and Sherlock. She looked ahead of her, and saw many of the people she loved waiting for her.

Her mother, Madi (who was slightly insane), was wearing an abnormally puffy white dress, saying that 'she'd never had her own wedding'.

Isabella, her best friend, the maid of honour, was bouncing on her toes. She had picked out Sadie's dress, and styled her hair for her.

John, who they had picked to be best man, was still in shock that Sherlock has _actually proposed_. And not by text.

Molly, the bridesmaid, wearing a pale pink dress with a rose hairclip. She was grinning happily.

And Sherlock, who looked over his shoulder and smiled at her. He looked nervous, but confident at the same time.

Sadie and Mycroft stepped onto the aisle, as the music started. The music. Something was not right at all.

Stayin' Alive by the Bee Gees was _not_ their wedding music.

Sherlock's face was as white as paper, and he spun around. Mycroft pulled Sadie close to him.

"This isn't possible." Mycroft said, hiding the terror in his voice. Sherlock ran over to Sadie, who grabbed his arm.

"What is it?" She asked, terrified. "I don't think this was the planned music." Sherlock's eyes darted around the room, which was chaotic. Everyone knew that something was wrong, even if they didn't know what.

"He's back." Sherlock said, looking from Sadie, to Mycroft, to John. Sadie noticed that his voice was shaking. Somehow, this made her even more terrified than knowing that her wedding had just been ruined by someone.

"Who's back?" John asked, dreading the answer he knew he would hear. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't block out that one word, ringing around his head, especially after Sherlock said it. Sherlock took a deep breath and looked apologetically at Sadie.

"Moriarty." He whispered.


End file.
